


And I Knew You'd Come Back To Me

by consideritalljoy



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Canon Compliant, Drabble, Fluff, M/M, according to my read on the canon, did i take a single line from cardigan and make a whole thing out of it?, immediately post v'ger, spirk, which is to say, yes i did and i am valid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:53:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26118301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/consideritalljoy/pseuds/consideritalljoy
Summary: After V'ger, Jim and Spock rekindle what they left off when Spock left for Vulcan to complete the Kohlinar.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 7
Kudos: 60





	And I Knew You'd Come Back To Me

V’ger withdrew, and the Enterprise returned for its continued repair. As soon as he could, Jim found Spock. 

Still in his quarters, despite the halls being largely deserted. Likely meditating, then, Jim realized as he entered. For a moment, he considered leaving Spock undisturbed. But he never had before. Why start now? 

“Jim,” Spock breathed, opening his eyes. 

Jim stood across the room, stopped by the door, wondering, even still, if it was right for him to be here. Their first time alone, since... 

“You didn’t even say goodbye, Spock,” Jim said. Seconds passed. When he received no answer, he sighed, casting his eyes to the floor, hands curling in and out of fists. “May I enter?”

Spock didn’t move, and his gaze was honed on the middle distance before him. “Always, Jim.” 

Jim crossed the room, diverting his path a little to avoid coming too near Spock, and sat on the cushioned bench on the opposite side. As he sat down, he shot Spock a glare that would never be received, as Spock maintained his gaze away. “Your Vulcan serenity can get a little irritating at times, you know that?” 

“I have received similar comments from others of your species over the years, Jim. I am aware.” 

“Why didn’t you say goodbye?” Jim pressed. "Or message later, even?” 

“Our relationship at that time had been terminated. I had no duty to inform you, and while I considered doing so as a courtesy, I ultimately concluded that the greater courtesy was to maintain distance. On our last meeting, you had not indicated anything to the contrary.” That eyebrow quirk, just the same as ever. 

Jim bit his lip, memories of that last meeting floating through his mind. He reddened. “I was wrong. I’m sorry about that.” 

“I believe we were both in error at that time, Jim. I accept your apology nonetheless, and I offer you one of my own.” 

“Accepted, a thousand times over,” Jim said in a rush. With the ghost of a chuckle, he continued, "We were both young, then. Mistakes were bound to be made. I just wish they hadn’t been so costly.” And he wished Spock would look at him, Jim thought bitterly. He was familiar with Vulcan ways, of course, but _something_ to run with would be nice. 

“I meant what I told you at sickbay. I believe the reason I was unable to complete the Kohlinar was because of my continued connection to you. I was initially displeased at my weakness in this matter, but I believe now that, rather than a weakness, this poses a strength.” 

“But how did you know to come back? Did V’ger somehow know to contact you?” Jim asked. 

“No, I do not believe so. I do not believe V’ger had that capability. I’m not positive, but I theorize that a remnant of our bond continued to exist, even after we broke it apart. I believe it was this remnant that called me here. I mistook the signal as V’ger’s because I was unaware that our bond persisted. I do not know how it eluded me until recently.” 

“I might,” Jim said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “You received that call around the same time I came onboard the Enterprise. While on Earth, I did my best to avoid... everything, but back here... well. I missed you, Spock. I wished very much that you were by my side again. Could that have sparked the bond?” 

“Perhaps. It is as good a theory as any I’ve considered. We may never know conclusively. However, I am pleased with the result.” 

“Displeased, now pleased, why, Mr. Spock, what emotional language you’re using.” 

The tips of Spock’s ears shifted a few tints closer to green—the first change in demeanor yet. “Your specialty has always been to draw impropriety from me, ashayam.” 

If Jim noticed an increased body warmth when Spock’s ears greened, now he felt positively sweltering. He tugged at his collar, and let the words tumble out, unsure as he was of their reception. “I’ve missed you. Terribly. I realized not long after we parted how much I’d taken you for granted, as a part of me I couldn’t lose, only then to discover I had lost it. We were so young. But I also had a secret, kept, it seems, even from you.” 

“A secret?” Spock asked. 

“Yes.” Jim’s tone was playful now, almost like it always had been back then. "I never truly believed we would be apart forever. I harbored this conviction since nearly the beginning of our partnership. I discounted it for most of my life—when you are young, they assume you know nothing, and I, too, assumed the feeling was to be disregarded. But I knew you. And I knew you’d come back to me.” 

“I had not yet left,” Spock said, with that slight tonal shift denoting confusion, usually at human antics. "There is no reason for you to suppose I would return if I had not yet left.” 

“I knew, I think, even then, that you would leave for a time. With equal intensity, I knew you’d come back to me. Feelings are, sometimes, all we humans have to go on. And you _always_ made me believe in miracles.” He was leaning against the wall behind him now, one foot on the bench, hugging his knee. Casual. Familiar. As familiar as breath. 

A nod from Spock confirmed he caught the reference. “Just as you almost make me believe in luck. I remember the first time we said these things to each other. You say you knew even then?” 

“Yes. I’d nearly begun to think myself wrong. I see now that I was right.”

Spock, finally, rose from his position in the center of the room. His gaze still never met Jim’s, but he stood, and the space between them eased as he took a few steps forward. “If this is true, then it could be what caused the bond to remain. If you harbored a belief that we would be reunited.” A long moment passed, and Jim took in a breath, and, as if impatient to hear a reply, Spock’s eyes finally met Jim’s. 

Jim grinned, locking eye contact, daring it to end, dumbfounded by the sensation he hadn’t realized he’d forgotten. He took another breath before finally answering, still smiling wide. “I see my hand is tipped. But you’ve only just returned, and much will have changed,” he said, more seriously now, grin replaced by soft almost-smile and as much sincerity as he could find to pour into his expression. "I don’t wish to put pressure on you, but after everything that happened in sickbay… well. Am I correct in thinking that you wish to…” Words, words, the phrase stuck in Jim’s throat, finally eked out, "consider the relationship again?”

The reply came in an instant. “More than that, Jim, I wish to be bonded again.” 

Jim expelled any air left in him and collapsed a little on his chest before standing and stepping within an inch of Spock. Their bodies now so close, as they were always meant to be, he kept the eye contact, then motioned with his eyes down to his outstretched hand, palm up, middle and pointer finger held out together. It was a question, and a reply, in one. 

Spock moved slowly, reverently, mirroring the posture, and their fingers finally touched. The exhilaration caused an electric feeling to shoot through Jim’s whole body, and from the faintest of shivers he saw in the Vulcan before him, the reaction was shared. 

Fingers still touching, Jim lifted his eyes again, and leaned minutely forward, enough to touch foreheads with Spock, and drank it all in. “I wish that, too,” he whispered at last, and swayed an inch or two back. He breathed again, urging himself to remain standing, remain solid, despite the swaying of his legs. He grinned again. “Well then, why drag it out? We have enough shore leave to have both relevant ceremonies, Vulcan and human. I wouldn’t like to waste any more time.” 

Spock answered with the briefest of human kisses against Jim’s lips before pulling back, as green-tinged and cold as Jim was reddened and warm. “Nor I, t'hy’la.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so, quarantine's a bitch, and I've been watching a lot of TOS, and I've been listening to a lot of Taylor Swift's Folklore, so, I suppose this was bound to happen sooner or later.


End file.
